


Scarlet Eyes

by Lhea



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Romance, Crush at First Sight, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Romance, so so awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhea/pseuds/Lhea
Summary: “Just enough liquor to feel that nice buzz, that irritating mosquito of a man removed, pretty girl came to check on me… how could I not be okay?”The bartender giggled. “Don’t worry about the drink. That one’s on the house. Do you need me to call you a ride home?”“Nah, I’m not that drunk. …Unless you’re the one taking me home?”The bartender shook her head and scoffed. “Alright, that one’s your last. You’re heading home after you finish it, am I clear?”“Crystal, Miss… er…”“Tifa.”
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart, Jessie/Cloud Strife
Comments: 11
Kudos: 102





	Scarlet Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I love these gays.
> 
> Modern AU, because the world needs bartender Tifa and university student Aerith.

Final score: Sixty-two, a solid D minus.

The number stared back at Aerith, the red ink cackling in her face at her failure. She ran her nails through her hair. This was unacceptable—no, it was impossible! She had studied her butt off for this exam: at least an hour of rummaging through flashcards every night, a whole practice exam, a final runthrough with one of the other TAs… Something must be wrong.

She flipped through the pages anxiously. Each page’s corner noted a total deduction for that page; she counted each just to make sure. Nine, seven, twelve, four, eight. Extra credit gave her back another two points. That summed up to… 38 points lost? She whipped her phone from her handbag, and it confirmed her result. Every number had been tallied correctly.

Chalk squealed against the blackboard, yanking Aerith out of her own thoughts. Columns of numbers filled the blackboard, one of them emphasized with a box drawn around it: a ninety-seven.

Her heart sank.

“As you can see,” said the TA, “our highest score was a ninety-seven. A curve of three points will be added to each of your exam scores. If you have any questions about your score or your current grade with this exam factored in, please come see me after lecture.”

The remaining lecture proceeded in a blurred cacophony of the TA’s voice and the squeals of chalk against the blackboard. Aerith stuffed her exam away into a leather satchel hanging on her chair and struggled to follow along with the lecture in her notes. Her once meticulous handwriting melted into a slurry of cryptic, indiscernible runes. The exam score still haunted her. Something must have gone wrong, perhaps the TA who had graded hers had been given the wrong key and it was never revisited. But what if it was right? She’d surely need to ace the final to keep a grade good enough to keep her scholarships. Losing those would be… no, she couldn’t let herself think that far ahead.

What would she tell her mother? She’d probably call to check on her after this, like she had always done after the last period of the week. The topic would inevitably come up. Aerith scrambled for an excuse. She could just tell her that the exams were delayed, of course! She would buy that, maybe. It was worth a shot.

The clock struck three, and Aerith came back to reality. The blackboard had been filled; her page of notes was not even halfway finished. She hurried to make the rest of her notes before the TA could erase them all. Classmates vanished into the hallway one by one, though some lingered to discuss their own grades, granting her a bit of extra time to finish her task. Satisfied, she snapped her notebook shut, shoved it into her satchel, and joined the line to speak to the TA. She muttered a short prayer of thanks that she was last in line and that none had joined behind her.

When her turn came, she rummaged through her bag for the exam. “Excuse me,” she said, placing the papers onto the desk face-down, “I was wondering if there was… some mistake.”

The TA glanced at the front page and the grade marked in the top-right corner. He shook his head. “Ah, Miss Gainsborough.”

Aerith nodded.

“I remember that you did quite well on the first exam. High-eighties, bumped up to a lower ninety with the curve. Sadly, I’m afraid that there’s no mistake here. We double and triple-checked each exam.”

Aerith’s bag buzzed, and her heart jumped into her throat.. She swallowed hard, reaching into her bag to silence the infernal thing. “Sorry, I’ll take that later. What about the final?”

The TA sighed, pushed the papers back across his desk, and rose from his chair. “You’ll need to study hard to do well. Study the mistakes that you made on this exam. Correct those errors, and don’t skimp on the first exam’s material. I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”

Aerith retrieved the exam and shoved it back into her bag with little care for it, retreating into the bustling hallways. She retrieved her phone from the front pocket, flipping it upright in her grip and spurring it to life. The notification on its screen confirmed her fears: “1 missed call – Mom.” She clutched the phone to her chest and rushed outside through the crowds; she knew better than to keep her mother waiting.

Students’ voices meld together in a droning, indiscernible roar. Aerith could pick out snippets of phrases among them.

“…any plans for the weekend?”

“Meet me at seven!”

“…smashed and catch the game…”

“…need to relax…”

Relax. If only.

“Aerith!”

The hairs on the back of her neck fired, and she clutched her hands against her chest.  _ Nerves, girl, calm down _ , she told herself.

The voice belonged to a classmate of hers, and a fellow member of the Honors’ College. Had he been waiting for her? She realized that she couldn’t remember his name. “How’d you do on the exam?”

Her heart sank. “Oh, er… Well enough, I guess.” Just a little white lie. Hopefully that would get him off her back.

“So modest. I bombed,” he said, hanging his head. “I’m gonna have to study hard for the final. I’ll probably put together a study group, if you’re interested.”

“You betcha! I’d love to help out, if I can.”

“Great, I was thinking we could get started next week! I’ll send you the deets once everything is put together, yeah?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you around!”

She moved to leave, but he snatched her wrist, catching her off-guard.

“Before I forget,” he said, “there was… one more thing.”

She tilted her head in anticipation, and her eyes widened into pools of bright spring green.

“I wanted to see if… you wanted to hang out tonight? Maybe we could go out for a drink together! There’s this bar down the way that I’ve heard good things about.”

She fumbled through her thoughts while trying to formulate a response. A bar, huh? Filled with folks cheering and celebrating life with one another, forgetting their worries for one night… it sounded interesting. Still, she felt apprehensive. She knew well enough where this was going. He was easy to read. She tried to stir the conversation away.  _ Don’t make it about him, if you can help it _ . “…a bar? I don’t think that I’m the type for that.”

“You don’t have to be. We can just enjoy each other’s company over a drink or two!”

_ Well, that didn’t work _ , she thought.  _ Time for the direct approach. _ “Sorry, I’m really not interested in a date. I’m sure you’re a great guy, but now really isn’t the best time.”

His loosened grip let her slip free easily. “Got it,” he said, his face enveloped in a sullen expression. “I’ll uh… send you those study group deets, then. Later.”

“Later.”

He proceeded down the hallway without another word, vanishing into the sea of students leaving their lecture halls for their weekend. She followed after a moment, glancing down at her phone screen to distract herself. He had not been the first to be turned down—and, given her track record, would almost certainly not be the last. She had better things to worry about than boys: her grades, her scholarships, making sure that she’d get into the pharmacology program and have her career lined up. All of these were so much more important than some boy’s heart being broken. They definitely wouldn’t stop coming, and she had no intention of changing her tune.

Stepping outside the lecture hall, Aerith raised a hand to block the late afternoon sun from her eyes. A few swipes through her phone brought her to the call listing. Her mother still sat at the top, eagerly waiting for her to return it. Her thumb twitched in anticipation. A tap of the button started the call, and she brought the phone up to her ear. It rang twice, and stopped midway through the third. “Aerith!” proclaimed her mother from the other end.

“Hi Mom,” she replied. “How are things?”

“Oh, well enough. Keeping busy around the house like usual. It’s not like you to miss my Friday afternoon calls. Everything okay?”

Aerith’s breath hitched. “Yeah, just had to talk to the TA about something after class.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“I had a few questions about the day’s lecture, that’s all.”

“I see. Well, how’s the rest of your week been?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Class most of the week, a few labs here and there. Honors’ College meeting went off without a hitch. I guess we didn’t meet for STEMgirls? That’s about as exciting as it’s been this week.”

“Mhm. And what about that exam you had this week? What was it in again…”

“Orgo. We don’t have that exam back yet.” Just a white lie. Please don’t ask about it.  
“…orgo?”

Phew. She must have taken it. With a weight lifted from her shoulders, Aerith giggled at the half-question. “Organic chemistry, Mom. We just call it ‘orgo’ to keep it… I dunno, cute?”

“Never heard someone describe a subject as ‘cute’.”

“Well, now you have!”

They shared a laugh through the phone.

“And what are you getting up to this weekend?” her mother continued.

“Hm. I don’t think I have any plans this weekend. I kind of just want to be lazy and unwind.”

“Didn’t you do that last weekend? You should get out a little more, live a little. Meet some people! You never know what friends you might make, maybe you’d even meet someone special!”

Aerith rolled her eyes. “Mom, please. I’m really not looking for something like that right now. I’ve got plenty on my plate right now with just myself.”

“I’m just saying! You never know.”

She shook her head. “I know. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good, that’s all I’m asking for. Did you have anything else you wanted to chat about?”

“Nope. That should be everything.”

“Okay, well, I’ll let you go, then. Don’t wanna keep you too busy from your unwinding. Love you!”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

The line clicked shut. Aerith put her phone away with a sigh of relief. Perhaps her mother was right; maybe she could get out more. Clubs had done just enough to keep her social needs stimulated, but little in the way of helping her make real friends. Certainly nothing like what her mother seemed to want her to find, either. Still, a longing drew at her stomach. She needed to go somewhere that she wouldn’t normally, do something that she wouldn’t do, just to get her mind off of things. The question was: where and what?

_ …what about a bar like that guy asked me out to? _

A curious thought, it was. She certainly wasn’t lying when she had told him that she didn’t think herself the type. But, given the circumstances, perhaps taking a chance on herself would do her some good. What would she even wear? Didn’t people usually dress up for outings like those? She glanced down at her state of dress; it was far from anything one would consider “formal.” Ankle-length skirt, matching white blouse, denim jacket pulled over her shoulders… maybe she could get away with it. Worth a shot.

She imagined the scenery again, the same as she did earlier: a vibrant environment, bursting with life, filled with all sorts of men and women celebrating and reveling in one another’s company. Enamored with the thought, Aerith made her choice. She’d give it a shot. Maybe a night out on her own would help calm her nerves. She was certainly desperate enough.

Hopefully there would not be more hearts to break.

* * *

The pungent scent of alcohol hung thick in the air. Cheers and shouts from patrons all around echoed across the walls of the bar, melding with one another into an indiscernible roar. Music blared from the speakers scattered through the bar with the bass cranked high. The familiar, unpleasant taste of liquor lingered on Aerith’s tongue, causing her to gently retch as she downed the last of her cocktail. The faint hints of pineapple had long vanished from the drink as she reached the bottom.

She regretted her choice of Friday night outing. At the very least, she couldn’t hear herself think. Judging by the fuzzy sensation in her forehead, soon she wouldn’t even be  _ able _ to think.

A man filled the empty seat to her left, propping his head against the bar with one arm. “Well, if it isn’t my lucky day. Fancy meeting a gal like you here on a night like this.”

She glanced sideways at him. Wisps of brilliantly red hair fell in front of his face, an otherwise unkempt look compared to the meticulously spiked mop atop his head. A pair of aviator goggles—a strange fashion statement, she noted—held his bangs back from falling too far into his cat-like green eyes. His gaze was narrow, keen, like a man who had never been properly told “no” in his life. Through his open jacket, the pale skin of his bare chest gleamed.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“On the contrary, I’d love to help you!” he replied. “Name’s Reno. Lemme buy you a drink, gorgeous?”

“Hm…” Aerith’s brow arched, and her lips curled into a confident, coy smile. “Sure, I’m game. Another piña colada sounds perfect.”

Reno’s eyes brightened. “You got it, pretty lady.” He beckoned to a woman down the way of the bar. She acknowledged him briefly while finishing up a refill for her current customer. Once finished with her task, she attended to Reno’s request, carrying a swagger in her step befitting a woman with charisma.

“What’ll it be, fly boy?” she queried.

“A piña colada for the lovely lady,” he answered. “My treat.”

The bartender glanced at Aerith, and it was here that Aerith first took note of the woman’s appearance. Her eyes shone with an unusual, bright scarlet hue. The warm, subtle lighting of the bar made her skin glow, highlighting the soft curvature of her cheekbones and the lean musculature of her shoulders. Ebony locks framed her face, falling across her collar with a stark contrast to her white crop top.

Aerith’s pulse quickened, and a light flush filled her face. She thanked the gods that it would be hidden beneath the bar’s red lighting. She pushed her empty tumbler forward and swallowed the lump in her throat.  _ Nerves, Aerith, nerves! She’s pretty, so what? _

The bartender leaned forward. “He bothering you?” she asked, just audible enough for Aerith to hear her over the music.

_ …Okay, she’s not pretty, she’s gorgeous.  _ Aerith shook her head, pursing her lips.

“Lemme know if he does,” she continued with a wink. “I’ll bail you out.” Snatching away the empty glass, she waltzed off to the back wall to select her liquors for mixing. Aerith found herself watching the sway of her hips as she left.

“So,” said Reno, stealing Aerith’s attention back to him. “Tell me a little more about yourself. What brings you here?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. Felt like having a quiet night out, as one does.”

“Coulda picked a better spot than this one if you wanted some place quiet.”

“Yeah, well. Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.”

The bartender returned with Aerith’s cocktail, garnished with a fresh slice of pineapple. Her eyes lingered on Reno as she departed, wary of his presence; Reno waited patiently for her to attend to another customer while Aerith took a sip of her drink.

“I got a few places in mind that are way quieter than this sleazy joint.” He reached for a bare strip of Aerith’s thigh. The cold touch of his fingers against her flesh startled her, forcing her to down a mouthful of liquor. Caught off-guard, she erupted into a fit of coughing. Sensing an opening, Reno pushed forward, moving his hand from her thigh to her shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, you okay there, sweetheart?”

She shoved his arm away. “I’m fine,” she replied through a stifled gag reflex. “Do me a favor, though: keep your hands off me.”

“My bad.” Reno thrust his hands into his pockets. “I just wanted to get outta here, take you somewhere we could talk a little more… intimately, y’know?”

Aerith cleared her throat and reached for a glass of water left next to her drink; a few gulps were enough to soothe her cough, but she took her time to down the whole thing. She slammed the empty glass on the table. “Intimately, huh? And just what were you thinking we’d chat about?”

Reno swallowed hard. The sudden aggression had caught him unaware. “Well, maybe I could start by learning a little more about you? Start with your favorite color. Mine’s green, like those pretty little emeralds you got in your eyes.”

Aerith rolled her eyes. “Oh, c’mon. Surely you can do better than that. You could start with ‘What’s your name?’, seeing as you still don’t even know that much.” She held her cocktail just beneath her nose, savoring its fruity aroma, now tipsy enough to ignore the stench of alcohol.

“Er… you’re right, I never caught your name! Mind illuminating me?”

“None of your business. Thanks for the drink. Find a girl more your type.”

“Ohoho, a feisty one! I love that in a woman.” Reno reached for Aerith’s free arm, as if to pull her close to him. “Come on, now, angel, just be honest with me!”

Aerith wrenched herself free from his grip with a forceful tug, spilling a bit of her cocktail onto her blouse in the process. She growled in disgust at the stain. “Please, just buzz off. I’m not in the mood to put up with guys like you tonight.”

Reno’s brow creased, leaving wrinkles in his forehead. He grabbed her wrist again, tightening his grip this time to keep her from breaking free. “Alright, listen, I didn’t offer to buy you a drink just to get stood up without so much as a decent conversa—!”

“Is something wrong here?”

Reno looked to his left. The bartender stood on the other side of the counter, her arms folded across her chest. Her sour expression cut through him like butter. “Not at all, ma’am!” he exclaimed. “We were just having a lovely chat!”

“Is that so?” She looked to Aerith and noticed the strip of stained cloth running down the front of her blouse. “And she’s spilled her drink on herself during a ‘lovely chat’ because…?”

“Oh, er… that was an honest accident!”

Aerith shook her head and scoffed, pulling herself free again. “Listen, I’m just here to drink, and he’s getting on my nerves.”

“Understood,” said the bartender. She cupped a hand around her mouth and shouted toward the entrance, “Wallace!”

“Wallace?” Reno queried, dumb-founded.

“The bouncer,” said the bartender. “If you’d like to keep yourself in one piece, then you should leave. Now.”

The color fell from Reno’s face. He adjusted the hem of his blazer and took a deep breath. “Right. Er… I’ll just be showing myself out. …sorry for the mess.”

The bartender kept a watchful eye on him as he departed. After he exited the bar, she turned her attention back to Aerith. “You okay, love?”

“Am now!” Aerith replied. “Just enough liquor to feel that nice buzz, that irritating mosquito of a man removed, the pretty girl came to check on me… how could I not be okay?”

The bartender giggled. She had grown accustomed to customers trying to flirt with her after a bit of alcohol had blown open their inhibitions, finding it more amusing than upsetting. “Don’t worry about the drink. That one’s on the house. Do you need me to call you a ride home?”

“Nah, I’m not that drunk. …Unless you’re the one taking me home?”

The bartender shook her head and scoffed. “Alright, that one’s your last. You’re heading home after you finish it, am I clear?”

“Crystal, Miss… er…”

“Tifa,” she replied, reaching for the empty glass to fill it back up with water. She didn’t feel too bad sharing her name with a customer this tipsy; the odds were in her favor that she wouldn’t remember by morning. “You sure you’re gonna be okay on your own? It’s weird for a girl to be at the bar alone in a place like… well, like this.”

Aerith turned up the last bit of her cocktail, setting the glass down with a touch of disappointment. “Depends. Do guys like that come in here often?”

“Often enough. I’m used to dealing with them. You stood up for yourself a lot more than I expected.”

Aerith pouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just better than I expected from a girl in a getup like that. Awfully homely for a night out.”

“Is homely a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” Tifa grinned and set the full glass of water back onto its coaster. “Take care of yourself, okay? If you need anything else, I’ll be just down the way. And no more drinks! I’m making sure the rest of the waitstaff know!”

Aerith sighed in disappointment. What had gotten into her? She’d never known herself to flirt so brazenly with someone like that. And to be shot down, after being hit up by two men earlier through the day! She hadn’t even offered her own name to Tifa in return.  _ A missed opportunity, I guess. _

She eyed her glass of water. When she lifted her eyes again, Tifa had already vanished down the way, off to assist another customer. She frowned and took a drink, albeit too quickly as a stream of water poured from the corners of her mouth and splattered into her lap. She reeled, setting the glass back down. That was enough to convince her. She reached into the handbag hanging from the side of her chair, retrieved her phone, and dialed for a ride home.

Today really just wasn’t her day.

* * *

Aerith welcomed Monday. Not that she normally enjoyed Mondays, per se, rather that it would be a good way to kickstart her routine again after whatever nightmare of a weekend that was. She had never taken a whole weekend off to do just… nothing. On Saturday, she had curled up on her couch to finish her most recently borrowed novel from the university library. Sunday had been her day to catch up on her favorite shows; she decided, though, to dig into a new comedy, instead. Some humor, she reasoned, would take her mind off the pressing stress of that last exam.

Monday, though, meant starting over. She arrived on campus early, as per usual. Her first lecture didn’t start until ten, yet she had hopped off the 8 AM bus ride from her apartment. Her first target, she decided, would be her favorite café on campus.

The café was embedded in the lower levels of the library located in the northern half of campus. She rather enjoyed how quiet it would be in the early hours of the morning, bereft of any people, letting her mentally prepare herself for the day ahead. She noticed, however, something strange this morning. A “help wanted” message had been scribbled on the chalkboard leading into the café for the past few weeks, but now it was gone.  _ Curious, _ she thought.  _ Maybe they finally found a new barista to help out? _

She slung her handbag and her satchel over a chair near one of the great windows facing out into the lush greenery of the university grounds. “Good morning, Marianne!” she sang. “I’ll have the us… ual?”

The barista at the counter looked back at her, spooked. Aerith would recognize her anywhere: the bartender.

“Tifa?”

_ Well, shit,  _ Tifa thought.  _ The one time I break my rule about no names. _


End file.
